


Me Too

by orphan_account



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Blood, Burns, Knives, M/M, Masochism, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 19:28:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3300911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saruhiko loves how Misaki looks when he's angry, and Misaki hates how he feels when he sees that demented grin. </p>
<p>(or: Blood boiling with rage, blood boiling with lust-- the similarities can be startling.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Me Too

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE: This is tagged for mildly dubious consent less because the consent is actually dubious, and more because it is just EXTREMELY AGRESSIVE and I would feel like human garbage if I triggered anyone. 
> 
> As you were.

The kick sent Misaki flying backwards. His skateboard opted to fall to the ground where he once stood as his body rocketed through the window behind him.

The foggy glass shattered into large threatening pieces, clattering around him as his body hit the floor. His breath was knocked out of him, but he couldn't waste time recovering. He heard a window a story above him break, Saruhiko's amused cackle moving from the alley outside to echoing down the corridors of the next floor.

Misaki bounced to his feet, running up the stairs to follow that filthy laugh. They seemed to be in an abandoned school somewhere. As he ran down the hall a knife suddenly flew from a room, a fist following close after.

Misaki flung his upper body backwards, bring his hands to the floor behind him and kicking his legs up to whack against Saruhiko's arm before they finished their arc over his head and landed back on the ground. Then he was sidestepping backwards, one, two, shrugging away from Saruhiko's punches as fire bloomed from his fingertips.

Misaki managed a quick duck, then flung his flaming fist against Saruhiko's stomach. Saruhiko grunted in surprise. Misaki took the moment to cut his fist upward, but somehow Saruhiko was already grabbing at the back of his hoodie, swinging all his strength into his arms.

Misaki felt his feet leave the ground as Saruhiko swung him around. Then Saruhiko was releasing him, and Misaki was flying backwards into what looked like a science lab.

His back hit hard against a lab table, and Saruhiko's amused expression suddenly split into a thrilled grin.

"Mi-sa-ki..." Saruhiko mewed as he sauntered toward him, his hand resting on his sword but never bothering to draw it.

"Don't," Misaki said, rising to his feet.

Before he could finish his sentence Saruhiko was already reaching in his coat for his knives.

Misaki managed to dodge before the blades hit the end of Saruhiko's reach. Misaki popped up over the lab table, ducked down, sprinted to the side. He was desperate to keep his body moving, desperate not to be pinned down for an all out attack.

As he shot from one side of the room to another, he flung his hand out, spraying fire in Saruhiko's direction. Saruhiko's eyes widened, but so did his grin. He quickly sunk down on one leg, flinging another knife as if he could see Misaki's exact path.

The blade sliced across Misaki's exposed calf, a gasp and wince of pain making his beeline falter.

Saruhiko was already there, shoving Misaki down against a lab table. The edge bit against Misaki's spine, and he cringed as his back was forced to curve uncomfortably around the hard edge.

Misaki's eyes went from wincing in pain to wide with shock as Saruhiko's mouth came crushing down on his.

It was almost bruising force, no tenderness and all need.

Misaki kicked out against Saruhiko, and he went stumbling backward, his grin so lopsided it threatened to slide off his face.

"What the fuck," Misaki barked as he shoved himself off the table and lunged forward to swing at Saruhiko.

Saruhiko dodged lazily, dipping and sliding until he could easily grab one of Misaki's extended arms and swing him around, throwing him against a cabinet.

"I never said I wanted to fight you, Mi-sa-ki," he purred, his tongue playing with the syllables of Misaki's name until they were sickly sweet.

"You--" Misaki started, but Saruhiko crushed his mouth over his and drug his leg up between Misaki's. Misaki shoved at Saruhiko hard with his hands and Saruhiko jolted back but stayed locked in front of him. His knee continued to grind up against Misaki. Misaki shot flames into his hands and squeezed against Saruhiko's exposed shoulder and forearm, searing his flesh.

Misaki barely had time to notice Saruhiko's eyes shoot wide and roll back in his head before Saruhiko's head lolled backward and a rough groan tore itself from his throat.

Misaki's eyes grew in shock, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He asked, unsure if the question was rhetorical or not. He loosed his hold on Saruhiko's arms and shoved at his chest. Saruhiko stumbled back a few steps, his limbs wobbling beneath him as if the bones weren't quite stable anymore. His arms swung heavily, like that of a very demented and lifelike doll.

Misaki was wiping the taste of Saruhiko off his mouth when Saruhiko spoke again, "What's wrong Misaki? Still trying to get Suoh to fuck you?" His teeth glinted beneath his smirk.

"You piece of shit!" Misaki yelled before lunging at Saruhiko again, flames curling from his fingers and beneath his shoes.

Saruhiko dodged without a blink, bringing a knee up into Misaki's stomach. "Is that a yes?" Misaki coughed as he doubled over and Saruhiko roughly threw him to the ground, eyes glinting.

Saruhiko kneeled down and squeezed his thighs around Misaki's hips as he withdrew another blade. A warped chuckle escaped his lips as he moved to slash his blade across Misaki's chest, but Misaki's hand shot up and grappled at Saruhiko's hand. Misaki's hand lit with flames and Saruhiko threw his head back with a gleeful shriek of pain and pleasure. His fingers seized under the pain of the burn and Misaki wrenched the knife from his hand. Then he flung his hand out in front of him, the tip of the blade catching against Saruhiko's face and tearing a line of crimson across his  cheek.

Saruhiko gasped, his eyes wide as he forcefully slapped the blade out of Misaki's hand. He dipped down low against Misaki and purred, "That's it Misaki," before biting Misaki's ear.

Misaki yelped and threw Saruhiko off him. Saruhiko landed right on his tailbone and Misaki sent a kick straight into his chest so his back was against the dusty tile.

Misaki crawled over him, gold eyes hot with anger. He gripped a fist into Saruhiko's hair and growled, "Your nice clean uniform is getting dirty, you fucking traitor." Then he wrenched Saruhiko's head to the side and clamped his teeth over his neck.

Saruhiko moaned unabashedly, his hips lifting off the floor so Misaki could feel his cock stifled beneath his uniform.

Saruhiko's hands hurriedly crawled up Misaki's shirt, pinching and twisting his nipples when he found them.

Misaki hissed against Saruhiko's neck as his hand aggressively yanked open Saruhiko's belt and pants. Misaki leaned back over his knees, glaring down at Saruhiko's drunken smile. Misaki grabbed at one of Saruhiko's hips with one hand and brought the other up to his mouth. Then his tongue leapt out over two of his fingers, swiping over their full length quick, succinct, _practiced_.

The memories that flooded Saruhiko's mind with the flick of that tongue made him shudder, even as Misaki violently flipped him onto his stomach and yanked his pants just past the top of his thighs.

Then Misaki was shoving two fingers into Saruhiko's entrance. Misaki almost bothered to feel guilty until he heard the moan that careened off Saruhiko's tongue, the sound dragging up from his throat and vibrating across the floor. Misaki withdrew slightly and then dove back in. He could feel Saruhiko adjusting around him, tight and impossibly hot. Misaki shifted his hand, his mind tugging on old memories he thought he'd abandoned. He curled his fingers, pressing against Saruhiko's prostate.

All of Saruhiko's breath left him at once, "Mi. Sa. Ki." He gasped, his hips lifting and pressing hard against Misaki's hand. Misaki maintained the rhythm and watched as Saruhiko fell into pieces, his composure and voice breaking as he cried out for more.

Then Misaki was withdrawing his fingers and Saruhiko's hips tilted back in an attempt to follow him. Saruhiko whimpered as the pressure left him, and now Misaki was flipping him onto his back again.

He did it roughly enough the Saruhiko's glasses fell lopsided on his face, matching the curl of his mouth. His blue eyes were warmed over with pleasure and want as Misaki ripped his pants off unceremoniously.

Misaki reached his hand forward, and Saruhiko didn't have to be told what to do. His tongue ran across Misaki's palm, covering it in saliva.

"You're sick," Misaki commented even as he reached into his pants and withdrew a flushed hard cock, sliding his hand over it.

Saruhiko smiled as he followed the motion of his palm, blood sliding off the wound in his cheek, "Is that what you're calling it."

Misaki only paused long enough to shoot Saruhiko a venomous golden glance, then he was lining up to Saruhiko and shoving into him with one fluid motion.

Saruhiko arched his back and moaned, the pressure making him feel like his skin might burst into flames.

Misaki's breath left him, the strangeness and familiarity of the feeling sitting at odds in his stomach. He started with a few slow, shallow thrusts. But he saw the begging in Saruhiko's eyes, felt it in his own body. He employed long, thorough strokes, felt his nerves grow tighter with every joyous and ragged moan that came from Saruhiko's throat. Saruhiko's hips started to buck out of time, his breathing and gasping growing more erratic by the second.

"Harder," he managed to whisper as Misaki dipped down closer to him.

Misaki clicked his tongue in amusement, pulling out almost completely and watching Saruhiko's eyes go wild and desperate as he squirmed beneath his hold.

Misaki watched him like that for a moment, and then moved in quick, shallow strokes. Saruhiko's eyes rolled back in his head, his fingers dug anxiously into Misaki's back.

Misaki knew he couldn't play around for much long though. His tendons were winding tight and his skin was erupting with tension and sensation.

He reached up unthinkingly and put his hand on Saruhiko's face, lightly dragging his palm through the blood and smearing it down his cheek. Then he wrapped his free hand around Saruhiko's cock and thrust as far into him as he could manage, timing his hand with his thrusts.

Saruhiko yelped, twisting his head to the side and biting his lip before moaning for more. It didn't take much more, however. With Misaki wrapped around his length and filling him perfectly, he quickly lost control.

Misaki watched Saruhiko's eyelashes flutter and then he gasped Misaki's name, spilling out warm over his hand and jerking uncontrollably beneath him.

Misaki bit his lip against the trembling moan that tried to escape him as he felt himself coming undone. Then he shuddered, and he couldn't help choking out Saruhiko's name as he came inside him.

As heavy as his limbs felt, and as determined as his eyes were to stay shut, Misaki drug himself up from the floor and started refastening his pants.

Saruhiko laid there, eyes glazed over and barely open. "Misaki," he breathed as Misaki turned to leave the room, dusting off his hoodie. Misaki stopped and looked down at him, expression troubled, the reason yet unknown. "No one can do it like you," Saruhiko finished, words dragging slow in his throat.

Misaki's brows knitted together and his eyes went cold. "Good," he said, spitting the words like they were acid in his mouth, "I hope you suffer."

He was already turned and walking out the door so he couldn't see the thrill of excitement that crawled up Saruhiko's spine at his words, or the soft response he gave to the floor, "Me too."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I post my trash on tumblr too, if you're into that kind of thing.  
> http://suggestivescribe.tumblr.com/


End file.
